12 September 2010


rMarlon Brando said when he dies and looks back on his life he'll say; "What the fuck was THAT about?!" That's how I felt about this Summer.

We spent two nights at the Queen Mary (150 bucks a night) so we could take the haunted tour. Most of it was spent in the art deco lounge and in our room ordering martinis from room service conjuring up our own spirits (our room had the best view of the Long Beach pier and you could open the ships port holes to smell the musky sea air). Russ got his arm caught in one of the ship's gold elevators (the elevators don't have sensors that will keep the door open if something is blocking the way and if someone called the elevator on another floor, he would have had his arm lopped off). At night he thought all the women in gowns wondering the ship with drinks were a coven of witches (I find out later it was a "Christian Singles" mixer bussed in for an event).

The vox blog service I used to have my blog on is shutting down, memories.


  1. Glad to have you back here in the internet instead of living life out there in the wide world.

  2. I'll post once in a while, not as much as I use to.

  3. *mwah*

    I feel the same way about the last year and a half of my life. Hell, half the time as I'm falling asleep I think "what the fuck was today about?"

    I hear it gets better at some point. Meh.

  4. I'll give you a *mwah* and raise you a tapas dinner if you're ever in my neck of the woods.
    I feel like i've been in a daze since kindergarten, I just play along like I know what's happening.


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